


what do you want me to say? it’s never going away (my heart tattoo)

by garconrouge



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Bad Decisions, Fluff, Forgiveness, I refuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Past Character Death, Sad, Soppy, Tattoos, a little bit, like 95 percent fluff and callum being dumb and 5 percent sad memories, mostly fluff tho, no, whitney and callum are friends, will i ever write anything that isnt soppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 12:51:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19946467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garconrouge/pseuds/garconrouge
Summary: Ben's away for the week, and Callum decides to take Whitney out on the town to apologise for everything he's done. They end up in a tattoo parlor at the end of the night- and Callum makes a very bad decision.





	what do you want me to say? it’s never going away (my heart tattoo)

**Author's Note:**

> title is from Heart Tattoo by Joyce Manor, which is an absolute tune and you should all check it out

Callum was drunk. Really, _really_ drunk. Ben had been talked into going on a family holiday to Brighton with Lola and Lexi, and as Callum hadn’t been able to get the time off work he’d stayed behind. He didn’t mind, particularly- he’d been taking up a lot of Ben’s time lately, and he’d rather Lexi get to have a nice time with her parents. All the pictures of the three of them at the beach helped, too.

He’d found himself with little to do on his days off, however. Since his breakup with Whitney, his life had consisted mostly of being at work or being with Ben. And when Ben wasn’t there, he found himself sitting alone in their new flat, staring mindlessly at the television for hours on end. 

At one point, he’d resulted to going to the Vic to see if he could help out with anything. He’d wasted away half an hour there, helping Mick do the washing up, before he pushed a glass to the floor with his elbow and Shirley glared at him like she wished he’d explode. He’d left swiftly after that, skulking around the market for anything to do. 

That’s when he’d seen her. Whitney was standing on the opposite side of the market, at her stall, chatting to a customer. It had been quite a few months since everything had come out about him and Ben, and of course Callum had spoken to her many times since then, but he still felt a twinge of guilt every time he saw her. Whitney had adored Callum, and he hadn’t even been able to stay faithful to her. Or to love her as he should have. 

He’d walked over to her with determination, a purpose for the day newly found. She’d seemed surprised when she noticed him, finishing her conversation with a customer with a sale as he waited patiently. 

“He seemed keen,” Callum had said, leaning against the metal bar at the side of her stall as he talked. 

“Yeah, yeah he was just saying how much he liked the designs.” She was still selling some of the military-themed apparel, and he was glad to know that if anything, at least he hadn’t ruined that for her. Callum wasn’t sure he could have lived with himself if Whitney had given up her stall because of him, too.

“Listen, do you wanna go for a drink tonight?” She seemed hesitant. “As friends. Obviously.”

“I don’t know Callum, I’m-”

“I really want us to be. Friends, I mean. I wanna make it up to you, at least a bit. ‘Cause I really like you Whit, and I don’t want us to be strangers.” It was the truth; he wanted to be on good terms with Whitney again, would quite like if they could be friendly. He didn’t like the animosity.

“Go on then,” she rolled her eyes at him, an overly dramatic sign that he’d twisted her arm. 

And so this is how he found himself in E20, several tequila shots down, Whitney falling into his shoulder in a fit of laughter. They’d talked about all the big stuff so many times that it didn’t matter anymore, and Whitney seemed much happier ordering fancy cocktails and laughing about the dumb things they’d both done in the past than focusing on more recent events. 

“So I look back at the shirts,” she says, voice cracking as she tried to fight through the laughter, “and sure enough they all say ‘ _burp’_ instead of brap. When I’m telling you I could’ve died of embarrassment-”

“What did you do? Did you sell them still?” 

“Yeah, ‘course I did! Paid for the stock already, hadn’t I?”

His stomach hurt from laughing by now, numbed only by the alcohol running through his bloodstream. He was glad that the two of them were able to do this again, sitting together and laughing like nothing had ever happened between the two. At the end of the day, Whitney had been a great friend to him, even if he had messed that all up. 

He didn’t remember which one of them suggested that they leave the bar. It could have been neither of them- there was every chance Billy had grown tired of their incessant giggling and had kicked the both of them to the curb the first chance he got. But however it happened, Callum and Whitney soon found themselves out on the streets of Walford and with very little to do but enjoy their drunkenness. 

“I get it, you know,” Whitney said, one arm wrapped around Callum’s as they walked through the streets. “Why you didn’t tell me. Why you cheated. I _don’t_ get why you chose Ben, there are plenty of other fit blokes about that don’t have a history- but everything else, I get it. And I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”

“I didn’t choose him,” he said finally, taking a moment to think before he answered. Hearing those words from Whitney, even if they were both heavily intoxicated, meant a lot to him. He’d been hurting for a long time, which was only made worse by just how much he worried about hurting her, and for Whitney to tell him that she understood, that she _got_ it, was a weight from his chest. But there was just one thing he needed to correct. “Let’s face it, if I’d had a choice of all the blokes in the world I probably would never have picked Ben. He just… came to me. Like fate, I dunno. And yeah there’s probably someone out there with a perfect slate, no criminal record, maybe I won’t even have to bend down to kiss ‘em. But they’re not Ben, so they’re not what I want. Not ever.”

“You’re a right sop, you know that?” she asked, looking up at him with a smile. The two of them tripped, then, a paving slab underfoot having come up from the ground. Callum had to grab Whitney to stop her from falling to the ground.

“Maybe we should go somewhere with more even ground,” he laughed, barely feeling the pain in his toe. 

Somehow, they ended up outside the tattoo shop Callum had made a vow to avoid since his first day in Walford. There was a large statue of a snake in the window, and it freaked him out. Nevertheless, he allowed himself to be dragged inside when Whitney realised her friend was working that evening. 

“Sophie!” she called when they got inside, and Callum saw the girl with bright pink hair sitting behind the front desk perk up.

“Whitney!” she said, a smile on her face, “you been out on the lash? Who’s this then?”

“Callum,” he introduced himself, extending a hand for her to shake. The girl behind the desk looked at him in distaste, and he dropped his arm slowly.

“It’s alright, Soph, we’ve been talking everything out. It’s all sorted.”

She didn’t drop the glare, and Callum was more than a little confused. As far as he knew, he’d never met this girl before, but she seemed to know exactly what had happened between them. He wondered how many other friends Whitney had, or maybe even told him about, that he hadn’t ever bothered to take note of. 

The two of them fell into mindless chatter, and Callum laid down on the long sofa on the wall beside the front desk. He was still very drunk, and his head felt like it was swimming. He stared up at the ceiling for a while, trying to count the tiles but continuously forgetting and having to start again from zero. He only moved when he felt someone bat at his legs. He moved them, and looked up to see Whitney’s friend holding a drink out to him. 

“Who’s your fella then?” she asked, sitting in the space his legs had recently left as he took the drink from her. “The one you left her for on the day before her wedding-”

“Soph!” Whitney exclaimed, holding a drink of her own, and the girl ducked her head in apology. 

“ ‘m only asking, I just wanna know what’s so special about him that he beat out you.”

“He’s just great,” Callum mumbled, before bringing the drink to his mouth for a sip. Rum and coke, he discovered. “And I didn’t want to hurt Whitney, if- if that’s what you think. I just fell in love with him…”

The two of them let out ‘aww’s, and Callum found himself grabbing a cushion from the back of the sofa and clutching it to his chest, taking care to ensure he didn’t spill his drink. It felt juvenile, but he wanted to hide the red creeping up his cheeks. 

“Soppy,” Whitney repeated, nudging his shoulder with her cup. 

They sat together for a while, drinking and talking about anything except how Callum broke Whitney’s heart. Apparently midweek evenings were always slow here, and they had nobody booked in, so it was okay for Sophia to take a break and have something to drink. Callum was starting to like her, even if she did occasionally chide him for hurting her friend. 

“So what’s his name then?” she asked finally, having skirted around the topic of Ben several times now. 

“Ben,” he told her. He was sitting up now, elbows on his knees as he leaned over the cup he was holding. This was his second drink in the shop now- or was it his third? If he hadn’t been drunk when he’d left E20, he certainly was now. “He’s Ben and he’s… it’s like I can be myself when I’m with him. At the beginning it was like, like I was lying to everyone else but… but not Ben. I never had to pretend. Was just us.”

“Proper got your heart on your sleeve today, Halfway,” Whitney cooed. She’d moved to sit on the floor between Callum and Sophia, and was tilting her head back to look at him. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea…”

She started giggling, and Callum looked down at her in confusion. He couldn’t help but giggle too, despite having no real idea what it was that she found funny. 

“What?” he asked eventually, still laughing, as Whitney began to rise and walk behind the desk.

“You,” she began, leaning on the desk with both hands, “should get a tattoo,”

“No- no I can’t,” he grinned, the idea seeming ludicrous. 

“Why not? You could get one for Ben,” Sophia joined. She’d had quite a bit to drink by now, but certainly not as much as Whitney and Callum. 

“What would I even get?” 

Sophia stood, one finger in the air as if to ask him to pause on that note. She walked over to a large book beside one of the tattoo beds, flicking through it until she came to the right page. She brought the book over to him, dropping it in his lap and pointing at one of the drawings on the paper.

“You could get this heart, and then like- get _Ben_ in the middle or something. Literally, heart on your sleeve.”

He hated how much he liked the idea. How much it seemed like a _good_ idea. Callum had never been one for tattoos, the idea of a needle going into his skin over and over again was a little scary if he was honest. But just thinking about having Ben’s named inked into his skin, especially in a heart, excited him. Like some sort of loud, physical declaration of the truth that he had only just begun to share. Ben _was_ in his heart, so why not show that physically?

-

“He’s gonna kill you for that, you know.” 

Callum’s head was pounding. He’d been trying to go over some paperwork in the office, but his hangover was doing little to help. He’d downed some painkillers a few minutes ago, but they were still yet to kick in.

The office was warm, and he’d taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves to combat the heat. The fact that this meant he could see his tattoo, red and sore on his wrist, was the only downside. He’d begun to regret the decision the moment he’d awoken that morning, but there was little he could do about it now. It was in his skin, it wasn’t going to wash off. The most he could do now is hope it didn’t get infected.

Jay was the only person he’d shown since. He’d stifled a laugh when Callum first rolled up his sleeve to show him, and had been sniggering to himself about it ever since. 

“Maybe he doesn’t ever have to see it. I’ll just… wear long sleeves every day,” he hoped. 

“Yeah, and how’s that gonna work out when it gets too hot? Temperature wise or… otherwise.” Jay was leaning against the door frame with a smirk on his face. Callum wished he didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of it. He groaned, his face falling to the desk. Jay was right, there was no way he’d be able to hide the tattoo from Ben. He’d see it sooner or later, and the later he left it the worse his reaction would be.

“I’m fucked,” Callum mumbled, not even bothering to lift his head up from the desk. 

“Hey, look on the bright side,” Jay said, and Callum felt his hand come to rest on his shoulder, “at least he’ll never doubt if he’s in your heart or not.”

“Yeah, very funny,” Callum chided “but how do I tell him?”

“Just show him it mate,” Jay said, coming down to sit in a chair on the other side of the desk, “it’s better than fretting over it.”

-

It felt like he’d been staring at his phone screen for hours. The words would likely be burned into his retinas when he looked away. _“Just got back to Walford. Should be home in 20 mins x”_. He never thought he’d be so anxious waiting for Ben to return. He was wearing a sweater. He’d been doing that a lot more lately, wearing whatever he wanted again and refusing to worry about what others thought of him. He hoped the bright colour would distract from the anxious way he kept fiddling with the sleeves. 

He heard the door open, and stood to brace himself. He didn’t even understand why he was so anxious- it was just a stupid tattoo. It wasn’t a big deal, not really, and it wasn’t like Ben was going to be angry at him or anything- he’d probably just laugh at him for making such a bad decision. 

“Honey, I’m home!” Ben called, in the cheesiest, fake-American accent he could muster. He walked into the room, and Callum felt all of his anxieties melt away with one look. It was _Ben._ He was being a fucking idiot, and he grinned like one as he walked over to the man he loved and grabbed him, kissing him like it made up for every missed embrace at once.

“You missed me?” Ben laughed, one hand coming up to rest on Callum’s neck. 

“A bit.” 

“Well I will take that as a compliment.” He put his other hand in his pocket at that, rooting around until he found whatever it was he was looking for. He brought out a wooden fish, bright blue and green with yellow letters running across one side reading ‘ _BRIGHTON’_ , and a magnetic strip on the other. “Got you a souvenir.”

“Thanks,” Callum said, taking it from Ben and looking it over. It was just a fish, nothing special really, but it made him feel so indescribably happy, and _loved._ Nobody had ever bought him a souvenir before. His family had never had enough money to go on holidays, and whenever anyone else did they’d never even thought about souvenirs. It was something so small, but it meant a lot to Callum. “I’ll stick him on the fridge.” 

“Anything exciting happen while I was gone?” Ben asked as Callum took the fish to the fridge. He could hear him taking his jacket off and placing it on the table. 

“Um… not really?” he replied, the rising tone at the end a clear indicator that he wasn’t telling the truth.

“Oh come on Callum, you’re no good at lying any more. What is it?” He was suddenly much closer than he had been before. Callum turned around, and wrapped his arms around Ben. His tattoo stung a little, but he did his best to ignore it.

Callum knew he had to tell him now. It was a prime opportunity, and if he left it any longer it would get ridiculous. Ben already knew there was _something_ going on, and there was no real point in lying any more. He’d find out soon enough.

“Okay you’ve gotta _promise_ that you aren’t gonna laugh at me,” he said, pulling the newly-tattooed arm from Ben’s waist. 

“I promise,” Ben said, looking both confused and amused by Callum’s request. He watched as Callum pushed his sleeve up past his elbow, revealing the black tattoo inked into his wrist.

Ben laughed.

“You promised!” Callum exclaimed, his voice more than a little whiny. He could feel his cheeks heating up as Ben chuckled.

“I’m sorry, alright, it just took me by surprise is all. Why’ve you got that?” 

“Me and Whitney got drunk and ended up in a tattoo parlor.” There wasn’t any better explanation for it than that- getting a tattoo of Ben’s name in a heart certainly wasn’t something he would have done while sober.

“You and _Whitney?_ ” he asked, understandably shocked. While Callum had slowly becoming more friendly with Whitney again, as far as Ben had knew their relationship was nowhere near healed enough to get drunk together.

“Yeah, it was a platonic thing- I just wanted to make it up to her.”

“By getting a tattoo with my name on it? I’m sure she loved that,” Ben teased. He had a smile on his face, and there was a light shining in his eyes, which eased Callum’s nerves about the whole situation. He had been so worried that Ben would hate the tattoo, or be angry with him for getting it.

“It was her idea, actually.”

“Oh really?” The smile got wider, a deep fondness in his expression.

“Yeah, said something about my heart being on my sleeve,” 

“Well it’s under your sleeve now,” Ben joked, pulling Callum’s jumper sleeve back down over the tattoo before pulling him in for a kiss. 

They stayed in for the rest of the day, just the two of them on the sofa, watching whatever mindless crap came on the TV. Ben had a slight tan from being further south and spending days in the sun, and Callum was enjoying the new addition to his boyfriend greatly. Ben had been oddly quiet for a while though, and it worried Callum. 

“What’s wrong?” Callum asked, cocking his head to the side in concern.

“It’s nothing,” Ben said, “it doesn’t matter.” He smiled then, but it was so clearly forced- there was a twinge of pain behind it.

“Don’t look like nothing,” Callum pointed out, and he watched as Ben chewed at the inside of his cheek anxiously. 

“It’s just,” he began, much quieter than he’d been talking before, “the last person who had my name tattooed on them ended up six feet under.”

“Oh,” Callum said, this realisation quickly dawning on him. Paul and Ben had matching tattoos of each other’s names. Of _course_ Callum’s tattoo would remind him of that. He felt like a complete idiot for never having even considered that until now. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Ben said, that same pained smile back again, “not your fault.”

“Not yours either,” Callum said, looking Ben in the eyes with so much sincerity it almost hurt. If there was any words he wanted to stick in Ben’s head, it was that it _wasn’t his fault._ “I can get it removed if you want.”

“Nah,” Ben replied, almost too quick. “I like it. Even if it is cheesy.” Callum rolled his eyes. “I don’t want you to get it removed, unless you want to. I’m just being stupid.” 

“Out of the two of us, I don’t think you’re the stupid one here,” Callum laughed, nodding down to his wrist. He wouldn’t exactly call his recent decision a smart one.

“Oi, you’re not stupid. And if you are, that’s why I love you,” Ben said, shifting over to kiss Callum. His heart felt like it was going to burst at those words. He’d heard it before, of course. But he didn’t think he was ever going to get used to them.

“I love you too,” he mumbled, ignoring the slight insult as he did so. The stinging in his wrist only served to remind him how true those words were.


End file.
